


Obsession

by Spamberguesa



Series: Obsession [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Stalking, a total creeper, and she is the only one who has no idea, kind of tauriel/thranduil, seriously such a creeper, she's oblivious and he's a creeper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spamberguesa/pseuds/Spamberguesa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to <i>Possession</i>. Thranduil's fixation on Tauriel far predates the Battle of the Five Armies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsession

Legolas first noticed the change in his father not long after Tauriel reached her majority.

 _She_ didn’t, so caught up was she in her training to join the forest guard. And, although she had been adept at reading the forest for as long as he had known her, she was not very good at all at reading people – not that she had cared to learn. Ever was she happiest out under the open sky, sun on her face and wind in her hair. It was only natural that she would not have noticed the subtle shift in the way the King regarded her.

And it _was_ subtle. Legolas only spotted it because he was accustomed to watching his father during feasts, paying close attention to how he dealt with this councilor or that noble. And so it was easy to see just how often his eyes wandered to Tauriel, who was near bursting with pride at her first occasion to wear her green guard uniform. In the past, she and Legolas had snuck wine and danced until the small hours of the morning, but now she was stone sober, gaze flicking to and fro, assessing any potential trouble. No matter how hard she tried to remain stoic – and it was a visible effort – she beamed every time someone congratulated her on her acceptance into the ranks.

Perhaps it might have been understandable for the King to look on her with pride, but it was not pride in his pale eyes. Legolas could put no name to it, but it unsettled him. He hoped it was merely thanks to the truly heroic amount of wine his father had imbibed.

\--

It was not the wine, and soon, Legolas was not the only one who noticed.

Unsurprisingly, Tauriel herself remained oblivious. When she was not working, she was training, sparring herself breathless with any who would partner her – and growing ever better at it. Somehow, it only made his father’s regard for her all the more unnerving; the two rarely interacted. Whatever this was, it was not bred by familiarity. And that was probably what saved her from unkind speculation by the more suspicious nobles. Many had tried in vain to catch the King’s eye, but Tauriel had not tried at all.

He was perched in a tree one sunny day, patiently waiting for game of any sort to come his way, when two noble ladies passed below him, clearly not knowing of his presence. One of them, Lady Silwen, was not known for her charity of thought, so what she said surprised him.

“I do not think Tauriel is even aware of it,” she said, shaking her golden head. “Which is perhaps for the best. The poor girl would have no idea what to do. She is one of the few who has never sought the King’s attention.

“She is young,” Lady Ríniel said, “and so distracted by her new position that I doubt she would notice if the sky fell.”

Legolas held his breath. He had wondered if he was the only one who realized how his father looked at Tauriel, or if he was simply going mad.

“It will pass,” Lady Silwen said. “I hope. And I _truly_ hope no one ever tells her of it. We cannot be the only ones who have noticed.”

“Do you think _he_ realizes it?”

“I hope not,” Lady Ríniel said soberly. “If this is conscious on his part…well. He is a noble ellon. Whatever it is he thinks or feels, he will not act upon it.”

She was right, Legolas thought, releasing a slow breath once they had passed. Whatever disturbing regard his father might have for Tauriel, he would keep it to himself. Nevertheless, it _was_ disturbing, for it had only grown with time. Really, it was no wonder those two had noticed; on the rare occasions he was in the same room as Tauriel, his eyes followed her everywhere, averting only when she looked at him.

Perhaps it was best to start sending her out on longer scouting missions. Eru knew she had earned it; her proficiency with her knives was outmatched by very few, and her skill with a bow by even fewer. His request to the captain would not look at all odd, and Tauriel would be delighted. He trusted his father, but it still might be best if she were away for a while.

He approached Faelon late that night, patrolling a gurgling stretch of the enchanted river. The light of the full moon turned it into a glittering path, the branches lacing it with shadows. In the dark, it was easier to pretend the forest was whole, free of the disease that had marred it for centuries.

“Of course, my lord,” the captain said. “It might be wise.”

Something in his tone made Legolas look at him. The moonlight was bright enough to betray the understanding in his grey eyes.

“I will send her out as often as I can. The experience will be good for her.”

“Yes,” Legolas said, “it will.” And perhaps, with her no longer around, his father would come to his senses.

For if he did not, and Tauriel worked it out on her own, she might well run away, duty or no duty. If she felt unsafe in her own home, she would not stay.

\--

And it worked – for a while. When Tauriel was away, the King’s eyes cleared, and Legolas’s heart eased. And as he’d expected, Tauriel was enjoying herself immensely, hunting spiders and killing whatever stray orcs wandered over their borders.

But always, always when they returned, his father would ask to see them all, and his gaze would follow her as before. Mercifully, she still did not seem to notice, and Legolas thanked Eru for her blindness, even as he wondered at it. Eventually it occurred to him that she might not see it because she did not _want_ to. If she was forced to acknowledge it, she would be forced to do something about it, and what _could_ she do? She could hardly confront his father about it, and it would make their interaction agonizingly awkward.

Things stayed thus for the next two hundred years, and Legolas dared start to hope they would remain that way, and that his father’s strange obsession had grown no more. He was very, very unhappy to discover it was quite otherwise.

He’d gone to his father’s study to hunt for the latest reports from the captains – something he’d done hundreds of times before. As usual, the desk, carved from the round of a great tree-trunk, was cluttered with maps and parchment and empty wine-glasses, and he had to light a spare lamp to sift through it all.

This time, though, there was a leather folder he had never seen before, and it did not occur to him not to open it. He’d always had the run of the contents of his father’s paperwork, but what he found made him curse his curiosity.

It was stuffed with drawings, both pencil and charcoal – hundreds of them. And every single one was of Tauriel.

Ice washed through his veins. Some were portraits like any that might be found in the hall, but others – one was o her standing guard at the river gate, staring into the distance. His father must have been _stalking_ her to gain the image for that one.

And it got worse.

Halfway through the stack he found one that stopped the breath in his chest. In it she was sleeping, her hair spread across the pillow – disturbing enough in its own right, but on her right cheek was a scratch she had obtained on her last mission.

He hoped, oh, how he hoped, that his father had not broken into her room and drawn her while she slept, but he had a sinking feeling his hope was a vain one. For the first time, he feared that his father might compromise his honor if this went on much longer.

\--

And then came the day Legolas dreaded: Tauriel was promoted to captain. She would be reporting directly to his father. Alone.

Oh, she’d earned the position – there was no disputing that. He wished she was not such a fine warrior, that she did not have the full support of the guards. Were they mad? They had all seen what he saw. They were sending her into the lair of a dragon she did not know existed.

His relief was indescribable when nothing came of it – and he would have known of it if something had. Tauriel was an open book, and they spent much time together. He knew that his father thought he was infatuated with her, but in truth, he feared leaving her alone.

So, it seemed, did many others. She never lacked for companionship while at home; fortunately, she was a social creature and seemed to enjoy it. Sometimes, it seemed as though the entire kingdom had silently agreed to watch over her – for it wasn’t just the guards. At feasts, noble lords and ladies kept a buffer between her and the King, forming a large, impenetrable knot wherever she went.

It worked. For now.

\--

Legolas knew the exact day Tauriel worked it out, consciously or unconsciously. It was the day she left, following those wretched Dwarves.

And yet, perhaps it was for the best. The obsession in his father’s eyes had of late turned into outright hunger, and Legolas feared it was only a matter of time before he gave in to it. How far would he go? Tauriel was not the sort to be seduced. She would be horrified and refuse him – but would he respect that refusal? Or was his madness even darker than Legolas feared?

Mercifully, it seemed they need not find out. If she wanted to throw her entire life away for a Dwarf…well, worse things could happen.

Much worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Legolas, they could. And will. Poor Tauriel.


End file.
